Naked and Afraid

 Victor, you pervert! You watch that?

Well, yes, I do, have. I like it.  And hey, they got pixels that cover up the 'you knows' anyways. I very much enjoy the psychology of it all. Wait! Is that a violin I hear? I'm serious, they throw any two ole people out of a boat, canoe, jeep, off a horse - out in the middle of nowhere, as in no one in their right mind would live there (heat, bugs, cold, bears, elephants, 672 differnt kinda poisonous snakes, piranhas, Crocs, you name it, things that kill you are there. Did I mention thorns? Throw them in for good measure.

Truly, nerves, appetites, sufficient , drinkable water, body response to immense cold, or heat, yada. They, sometimes, find one has a type A (as in asshole, oops, sorry) personality, they fight like the creatures living close to their boma. .. it's interesting.

But, that ain't what this is about.

I blame this blog on Ross. Or lymphedema, long story. Or, Will Power, whoeverinthehell he is (or lack thereof). Fat, as in me. I ain't never been that before. Well, all the Poloroids from when I was born are faded, but I don't think I was fat then.

I remember back to when I was gainfully employed, our HR folks, out of great, great concern for our physical well being, sent in all these folks in scrubs in test this, that, s'more crap, height, weight to finally tell you "Your BMI is too (big, heavy, outta whack), here's a chart on where you really should be." My first thought was be for real. Hello? Does Manute Bol ring a bell?  Twiggy?

In hindsight, #1 I'm glad I can't see my hind, and #2, turns out HR folks really did all this crap because it helps them negotiate with healthcare providers, thus, better salary reviews.

Victor, you're grumpy. Hey, ask them folks on Naked and Afraid, it's what hunger does to you.

What's this crap about you blaming Ross.  I don't call them Ross anymore, I call em G-Ross, as in gross. Went to buy pants, shirt, funeral or wedding, I forget. Was forced to fully disrobe in dressing room with FULL length mirror. Great Caesars huge-ass ghost, I'm huge! Fat! Naked and very afraid!

So, the combination of never having met Will Power, coupled with wearing out the carpet to/from the easy chair to the fridge during the pandemic, my BMI added another letter...BMIH, as in, Bite Me I'm Hungry.

Fast forward to "Oh shit (sorry to cuss but it's literally what I thought), found a VERY cheap condo in Mexico for the month of January, I GOTS to do something, other than eat."

I counseled with two good friends who combined to lose over 200 lbs in less than a year.

P, "Cut out carbs and sugar, had to." He'd had some heart issues, I have PTSD from G-Ross's mirror image.

K, "Yes, me too (carbs and sugar). You can't cheat, oh, and alcohol, no alcohol." I either said "I'm sorry I couldn't hear you" or "No hablo Engleshe' ", I forget which.

So there I was... I was taken a place...in front of .. that damn G-Ross mirror.

OK, I'll try.  Did some reading...

"Lean meats (check), fish (no), things grown 'above ground'. Like?  "Asparagus, broccoli, cabbage, cauliflower, cucumbers, eggplant, kale, okra..." Wait, I don't like any of those. I'm gonna die aren't I?  Instead DIET we'll call it DIE-Tubby!

Found some stuff I do like. You didn't ask, but eggs, cut up ham, cheese for break...an ear of corn for lunch..Victor? That's got 17 grams of carb. Bite me, it's above ground ain't it? Salad with pepperoni, smore cheese, olives, walnuts for dinner.

Then, Father's Day happened. "Dad, here's a 1 pound, 20 bag of Peanut M&M's, happy Father's Day!". Thanks! I love me some peanut M&M's! Now what?  I'm 70, I'm gonna live a bit too, I eat TWO, and only two, a day.

Happy Fathers Day Grandpa, here's a gift card for Burger King!  Thank you, I love me some Burger King! It never expires, I'm sure I'll eat bread again some day, I promise Pat Ellingson Hains!

The stress compounds. 

190-some days to Mexico. Stressy. I think I'll have a beer. VICTOR!  Relax, scroll to the above, "70, gonna live", and besides, I switched brands, less carbs, calories.

If I fail, I'll buy me some big ass pixels to cover my belly, hiney, etc.

DIE-Tubby.

By Henry Gibson.     Forward by that Dr Now guy

Love, Victurd